The Bride Cometh
by rogueinker
Summary: After Voldemort's first fall, Dumbledore makes a fateful decision - to take on a wife. He enlists the help of his deputy but Minerva has plans of her own.
1. Default Chapter

**The Bride Cometh**

by rogueinker

Disclaimer: JKR owns all HP characters. This work is fiction and meant for entertainment only.

Summary: After Voldemort's first fall, Dumbledore makes a fateful decision. He plans to take a wife. He enlists the help of his deputy. But Minerva has plans of her own.

Genre & Rating: G, Humor, really

**  


Chapter 1

  
**

In an office, high in a tower, two friends enjoy afternoon tea. After settling school business, the conversation turned to more personal matters.

"I should like very much to get married."

The tea cup hovered in the air, shaking slightly.

"With Voldemort gone, we are in a time of quiet contemplation."

The cup was firmly placed on its saucer by two slender hands.

"Companionship would be desirable and I must not forget friendship. That is vital."

A hand slid under the table curling into a fist. The other hand gripped the cup hard.

"It is not too late for children I think."

The cup was gripped more tightly, if that were possible.

"Perhaps, a little one to dandle on my knee in a year or so.

A fervent command given to still a trembling hand was disguised as a throat being cleared.

"I certainly cannot wait for Aberforth to continue the line, can I?"

The cup was carefully, so very carefully brought up to lips suddenly dry.

"I cannot wait any longer. Professor McGonagall?"

There was a positive sounding murmur from his companion.

"Would you help me select a bride?"

Silence.

"Professor?"

A glimpse of emerald robes disappeared beyond the door.

"There must be an emergency somewhere."

* * *

The next afternoon a gentle knock was laid upon a closed office door. 

"May I come in?"

A tired voice bade enter.

"Our esteemed headmaster has asked me to inform you that he is healthy and functional. My examination proves -"

A flick of a wrist, a loud incantation and a piercing glare later, the woman found herself whisked out of the office with the door slammed in her face.

"Whatever is going on with you and Albus, Minerva, kindly leave me out of it."

The woman returned to her normal, orderly infirmary.

* * *

In the office high in the tower a few hours later, an old man consults his wisest adviser. 

"What should the qualifications be? She must be beautiful."

The adviser shook his head.

"I have to beget children. I could not do so with someone akin to a troll, can I?"

His adviser, if it had the ability, would have rolled his eyes at that comment.

"I shall settle for a ... a handsome woman, if I must, who is intelligent with an agile wit.

The adviser pointed to a nearby clock.

"What age must she be? Hmm. Young enough to have children yet mature enough to raise them properly."

The adviser moved to the middle of his perch.

"A witch of middle age would be ideal. As to her disposition, she must be warm yet dignified."

The adviser made a small noise of approval.

"And must like you. If she does not, well, she is not the one for me."

The adviser nodded encouragingly.

"She must be a woman of means and independence. I would not be able to abide a simpering clinging vine."

His adviser stared at the sword of Godric Gryffindor hanging on the opposite wall.

"I hadn't considered bravery. Well, she will have to pass muster by Minerva. Her courage will have to be great indeed."

With a wave of his hand, the quill began to pen his requirements onto the ready parchment.

"Ah, one more. Kindness. She must have a good heart.

His adviser cocked his head as if in full agreement.

* * *

A few minutes later, in the office of the tired woman, the fire sparked to life. A scroll flew out of the hearth and lay still on the floor. The woman rubbed her red-rimmed eyes, put her quill down and stretched out her arms. She walked to the hearth and picked up the scroll. 

"Not another Ministry request form please."

Deft hands unscrolled the missive. Eyes quickly scanned the contents. The office door opened and slammed shut.

"Too far! Too far!"

Heels clicked on the stone floor in a fast flamenca rhythm. Robes swished and swirled as the woman glided up the stairway.

"Who does he think he is!"

The portrait let her mistress in soundlessly. A quick spell and her rooms were ablaze with light.

"Chauvinist, barmy fool! Why have I wasted so much time?"

The wardrobe doors flew open. The woman reviewed her form critically in front of her mirror.

"I'll show him! I'll show everybody!"

Minerva moved to her bookcase and pulled out an ancient volume. Quickly she flipped through its dusty pages. Then she stopped. She grinned. She cackled.

"Yes, yes, yes. This will do nicely. He wants a wife. I'll get him a wife! The wife he deserves!"

* * *

Author's Note: I wanted to see if I could write a chapter where a line of dialog would be followed by a non-dialog line. Each line had to be short and concise yet move the story along. I cannot say where the plot of this came from. I suppose it could be considered the quirky opposite of Falling Into an Arrangement. Wondering if I ought to continue with this format or will it prove tiresome? 

So, gentle readers, what kind of bride would the headmaster deserve? Bets? Requests?


	2. Chapter 2

**  


Chapter 2

  
**

The next day on a desk in the now refreshed woman's quarters lay a parchment. Scribbled on its surface were her notes gleaned from her night's research. She scurried about her rooms getting ready for another school day.

"Where can I get it?"

The first written line on the parchment was - The Gift of the Seven Brides by an unheralded court wizard on behalf of his royal person Prince Inconstantus Von Fidelberg (circa 1705).

"I can't risk Hogsmeade. Diagon Alley?"

Bridegroom: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

"I'm known too well there. Muggle London it will have to be."

Brides: Intelligence, Wit, Beauty, Understanding, Bravery, Wisdom, Heart.

"But when to go? I cannot wait until this weekend."

Goal: Proposal of marriage

"Hmm. Perhaps I can inveigle Albus to teach my afternoon classes tomorrow."

Prerequisites: Suffering, humiliation, groveling, misery, abject humility

"Yes, That should be more than enough time."

Plan: Begins now

"I will have that man on both his knees or my name is not Minerva McGonagall."

With head held high, the deputy headmistress proceeded to breakfast.

* * *

The customary emerald outer robe lay quiescent on the bed. A harried woman paced in front of the woman seated next to the robe.

"Whatever this is about I want no part in it, do you understand?"

A head nodded.

"As long as no one is maimed, blinded or otherwise permanently damaged, I am washing my hands clean of it."

Agile fingers made quick work of the buttons on her inner robes.

"Well, I see nothing wrong with you. You are healthier than most women half your age."

The woman stood up and straightened her robes one last time.

"It's the animagus influence. Have you given thought to my idea of more research into animagus effects on the human female?"

A rustle of fabric was heard.

"Minerva!"

The tabby cat streaked out of the room as if the hounds of hell were at its heels.

* * *

Later that evening, deep in the dungeons amidst the most dangerous, most rare and most potent potions ingredients in the world, two people strolled with purpose and deliberation.

"Are you certain about this?"

A steady hand drew forth from a jar a slimy handful of pickled newts' eyes taken from nearly extinct Bolivian forest newts. The handful was carefully placed in another smaller jar.

"Have you considered all the consequences?"

Eager hands reached across the brimming shelves for the next ingredient - crushed pearl dust from the rarest of black pearls.

"I must confess to some degree of admiration of your tactics."

Sprigs of poisonous henbane found their way into her basket.

"This is an act worthy of my house."

An entire jar of preserved chameleon tails joined the collection.

"What you are contemplating has not been done in hundreds of years and only then to aid an indecisive bridgegroom."

A lazy finger traced the outlines of an exotic bottle of jojoba oil.

"No, not that. Kukui oil has better skin transformation properties. This one here."

Another bottle was added to her hoard.

"I am curious to know how far you will take this?"

Her baleful look was answer enough.

"Then you will have need of this."

A flask of shimmering liquid amber was held before her gaze.

"Over five hundred years old. It should serve its purpose well, should it not?"

A smile of gratitude greeted this generous offer.

"It is a small price to pay to witness Albus' comeuppance. I shall prepare my best cauldron for you when you are ready."

A half hour later, a heavy basket was hidden away in a wardrobe for safekeeping until the appointed time.

* * *

In a bedchamber, high in the tower, Albus got ready for bed. His adviser too was settling in for the night.

"Think of it, soon this chamber will not seem so lonely."

His adviser hopped a few times seeking a more comfortable position.

"Yes, it is about time I settled down."

Wings drew up together.

"A wise move to ask for Minerva's help. She informs me that she has prospects for me to meet this weekend."

Silence.

"Remind me to send Minerva some flowers tomorrow. Good night!"

With a whispered command the lights were extinguished. Another day had ended.

* * *

Author's Notes: The plot congeals. The players are in the game. Thank you for the feedback, I will keep the format and very glad the plot is interesting. Now that Minerva's plan is somewhat revealed, who do you think will be essaying the roles of the brides?


	3. Chapter 3

**  


Chapter 3

  
**

In a common room draped in red and gold, a chess match was in progress. A young student made frequent comment behind his book as he lounged on the sofa. His mates, long used to their friend's earnestness, ignored him.

"Have you noticed anything different?"

The black pawn looked right, left then advanced.

"About Professor McGonagall, I mean."

The white pawn faced off with the black. The black did not return.

"She seems so ... so energetic and warm. I can't describe it."

Two squares moved the black bishop. A white knight eyed the striding bishop warily.

"She seems happy doesn't she?"

A black pawn held fast against a white counterpart.

"I caught her smiling today as she looked out the window during our test."

A page turned.

"And what was she drinking? All during our class period she kept drinking from that tea cup.

The white king and rook formed a cozy castle.

"Perhaps it was medicinal? It was smoking purple, probably a restorative draught."

The white knight cantered into position. The black king gripped its sword tight. The white knight dispatched the brave pawn quickly.

"Do you think Dumbledore will substitute again? It was a nice change."

The black king sighed seeing defeat approaching in a few more moves. His owner needed much more chess practice.

* * *

The caretaker surveyed his domain just after sunset. With a contented sigh he left his hut.

"Ya know, Fang, this hasta be me favorite part of me job."

The large dog trotted by his side.

"Walking the grounds on a clear spring night. Nothin' better."

Movement on the lake caught his attention.

"Hmm, squid is active tonight. Merpeople playin' tricks on it again mayhap."

Water lapped gently against the shore. A slight movement on the placid lake.

"Some'un is swimmin' in the lake, Fang. Look."

The swimmer headed for the shore with strong, even strokes.

"He prob'ly couldna sleep."

The figure stood and made its way to shore. Its shadow danced upon the waves.

"Nice night for a swim full moon and all."

Bare skin glistened wet. Long arms shook the water from her long hair.

"Tis a girl."

After a few more steps, the water reached only to her thighs.

"No! She's ... she's too ... grown ta be a student."

As graceful Aphrodite from the sea, the swimmer trod upon the beach unashamed, unafraid.

"Grown everywhere ... just everywhere. Blimey!"

A face uplifted gazed upon the watching moon and twinkling stars.

"Tis ... tis Perfessor McGonagall!"

A thin wrap wound its way around her slim form.

"I shouldna be here. Come, Fang, quiet like now. Shush."

The giant left the lakeside with the dog lumbering beside him.

* * *

The following day, Friday, in the room of the lady of the lake just after dinner had been finished..

"This is rather sudden."

A tartan bag bounced onto the bed and opened itself.

"I suppose it is unavoidable. Your family needs you."

A long day robe disappeared into the bag.

"Do you think you'll be away the entire weekend?"

A quick nod was his answer.

"We will just have to muddle through without you."

A pair of nondescript black shoes flew into the bag.

"Are you sure she's coming?"

A slip of parchment was held out to him.

"And she knows why she's been asked to come here?"

A finger pointed to the last line in the letter. It said "I look forward to making his acquaintance. Sincerely, Amelia Sageworth."

"She sounds very promising. Very intelligent you say."

A pointed look was aimed in his direction.

"I shall behave I promise. This woman may someday be my wife. I would not have anything mar her visit here."

The tartan bag snapped shut. A traveling cloak was fastened at her throat. The man watched her preparations. It was as close to her he had come all day.

"Minerva, have you done something to your hair?"

His deputy laughed and denied any such thing.

"Of course, what am I thinking. You are the least vain woman I've ever met. The fripperies and such have never been of interest to you. Always so studious and sensible."

The tartan bag was suddenly launched into his arms. It fairly knocked the wind out of him.

"Oof! A bit heavy this."

The headmaster escorted his deputy to the gates of Hogwarts. He bade her a safe journey and returned to the castle. His mind filled with plans for Miss Sageworth's arrival the next day. Everything had to be perfect. He had to make a good impression.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hums quietly to self. Que sera, sera. I really think Minerva has shown far too much indulgence and charity towards the clueless one. Repeat after me "Suffering, humiliation, groveling, misery, abject humility." 

Many thanks to reviewers who have spurred me on. Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

**

Chapter 4

  
**

The thestral-drawn carriage was getting closer. On the steps of the castle, the headmaster breathed deeply several times. Beside him, Madam Pomfrey looked on with minimal interest.

"After the introductions I will only stay for a few minutes. You're a grown man, Albus, you have no need of a chaperon."

Male feet shifted under new purple and white robes.

"I would like your opinion of her. If Minerva were here, there would have been no need for your presence."

The nurse straightened herself as the carriage drew closer.

"Minerva says that I always think too well of people so much so that I miss their true natures. After you meet her, simply tell me your thoughts on first impression after she has left."

The nurse nodded. She noted the headmaster's fine appearance - brushed beard, shiny hair and new purple and white robes.

"Very well. It is the least I can do for Minerva."

The headmaster smoothed down his beard. He heard her chuckle beside him.

"Is appearance all that important to you, Albus?"

He looked thoughtful.

"Yes and no. She ought to be pleasingly shaped in body and face. Not too tall but slender and willowy."

She coughed.

"From what Minerva has told me of her, she sounds a very confident woman but I hope not too forward or modern. I prefer a feminine woman."

The nurse put a hand to her bosom as a series of coughs racked her body.

"Ahem, here she is."

The carriage halted. The door opened. A flash of a well-turned ankle came into view as the occupant descended.

"Welcome, Miss Sageworth, to Hogwarts."

A voluminous cloak of burgundy disguised her figure. Her face was thinly veiled under a tall hat.

"Thank you, Headmaster. It is my pleasure I assure you."

The hat, veil and cloak when off revealed a very slim figure barely filling out her cream robes, brown hair not luxuriantly long but bobbed and underneath a pleasant if not stunning countenance.

"This is Madam Pomfrey, our head nurse. Shall we go in to lunch?"

If her face and figure left something to be desired and her hair too short for his tastes, he ignored it. At least, her voice was pleasant to hear.

"How are you acquainted with Minerva, er, Professor McGonagall, Miss Sageworth?"

Avid eyes took in her surroundings. Her stride was loose-limbed but smooth.

"We see each other at conferences where we are typically speakers on the same panel."

Albus discreetly compared her height to his own. She reached to his shoulder.

"And she helped immensely on my book though she insisted on being uncredited."

Heels clicked on the stone floors.

"However, I insisted that she get a portion of the royalties. I believe she donates the amount to a charity of some kind."

There was a raised eyebrow.

"The book? It's titled the Seven Habits of Incredibly Intelligent Wizards and Witches."

They stopped at the stone gargoyle leading to the headmaster's office.

"Well, you hardly need the book, do you, headmaster?"

Albus laughed. He motioned for her to go first up the winding staircase.

"Madam Pomfrey, do you wish to join us for lunch?"

The nurse understood the unsaid. She mentioned a list of things left undone and left the two to their own luncheon.

* * *

Later that evening, a house elf found himself summoned to a small room in the dungeons off in the farthest corner of the castle. The room was too small to be put to any useful purpose. At the moment, it held a large wardrobe, a highbacked chair and the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Any news? Has she returned from her shopping trip?"

The elf nodded.

"Has she seen it?"

The elf nodded again.

"Is she upset?"

The elf's expressive face showed great distress.

"Very upset?"

The nodding this time was vigorously done.

"I suppose she's looking for me."

The elf shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes, yes, very good, claim you don't know where I am. Spread that word about your fellows."

The man sat heavily into the chair. He cradled his head in his hands.

"I was called away to the Ministry and when I had returned ... when I returned it was ...was what it is."

A noise outside the door made him look up. His hand went to his wand.

"Er, go out there and ... and, er, make sure it's not her. In fact, discreetly patrol that hallway tonight. Wake me if you see any sign of her."

The elf was just about to apparate when another command was issued.

"Please bring me my pillows, blankets and my thick robe. I shall have to make myself comfortable here tonight."

The elf disappeared to do its task. Albus transfigured the chair into a small cot. Nothing bigger could fit in the room. There was no fireplace. It was going to be a cold, miserable night. He sighed and wondered how things could have gotten so wrong.

* * *

The following day a rumpled, dishevelled figure made his way furtively to the main entrance glancing cautiously left, right, front and back.

"Minerva said she would be back by three. It's almost that. Maybe I ought to wait for her by the gates."

He ducked his head around the corner to make sure the way was clear. He muttered under his breath.

"No, that's too open. Not defensible at all."

He crouched low at every noise. He hugged the walls before turning every corner. And so he creeped and sidled his way to the main hall from his dungeon abyss.

"Almost there."

A few minutes later, in the main hall, the enormous front door began to open. Minerva stepped in.

"I don't see anyone. Now or never, old man."

Albus eyed the hall, the stairway, the cross corridors then ran pell mell towards salvation.

"Oh, it's nice to see family but there's nothing like home."

Her eyes spied the blur of purple veering towards her.

"Albus!?"

Albus halted just behind her gasping for breath. She whirled around but he moved behind her again.

"Will you please stop moving and face me?"

The sound of approaching footsteps brought Albus to attention. He gripped Minerva's waist and inched closer to her.

"What ... what are you doing?"

The footsteps became louder. A murmur of voices reached him.

"You believe he's finally come out now that she's here, Severus?"

Albus swallowed and took deep calming breaths.

"You there!"

Madam Pince streaked towards the deputy and headmaster like an avenging angel wand at the ready.

"Take your due like a man!"

Minerva grew alarmed. Was that a whimper she heard from behind her?

"Irma, calm down. Someone tell me what is going on here?"

The librarian drew her wand and circled the two. Albus made sure to keep Minerva between him and the pointed wand.

"Do you know what his girlfriend did?!"

Minerva's back stiffened.

"I ... I didn't realize Amelia would make such a good impression so quickly."

Madam Pince made another circle.

"I was gone for only a few hours! How could you have let her do what she did!?"

Madam Pince spluttered. Her rage was terrifying to behold.

"Amelia? She wouldn't harm a fly, Irma. I've known her for years."

Minerva found herself being pulled backwards by the headmaster. Towards the Great Hall she guessed.

"She ... she reorganized the library! My library! Mine!"

Minerva gasped. Her hand flew to her chest so great was her shock.

"Ah, er, we can all help to put things back on the right shelves, Irma. I'm sure Amelia meant no harm."

The librarian snarled. The potions master sensing the potential homicide in the air made his presence felt.

"Miss Sageworth did more than rearrange the books. After Albus had to leave, I was pressed to give her the tour. We passed by the Library and when she was left to her own for a time, she returned there."

The deputy found herself being propelled much faster, backwards. Her feet left fhe floor several times. The headmaster's grip felt like manacles on her waist.

"That ... that woman RECATALOGUED and RESHELVED every book, parchment and article, in her OWN classification system! No one can find anything! ANYTHING! How is anyone going to use the library?! It's not a library ANYMORE!"

Albus braced himself against the doors of the Great Hall. His lungs heaved like bellows. He ached everywhere.

"Oh, dear. I knew she had her theories I never would have thought she would have applied them. If only I was here. Oh, dear."

Albus felt behind him for the door handles. Madam Pince was beside herself.

"Now, Irma, here is what we will do. The library will be closed for the week. That will be enough time to reorganize?"

The other woman nodded.

"All right, Severus, inform the other teachers that students should not be given homework that would require use of the library this week."

There was another nod.

"And, Irma, do get some rest. You can start tomorrow. I will have extra elves, as many as you need, assigned to help you."

Madam Pince cast a last glare at the cowering headmaster. She pointed her chin at him.

"I'm sure it was just a mistake, Irma. It WAS a mistake, wasn't it, headmaster?"

Like a meek schoolboy, the headmaster nodded with great seriousness. He apologized most humbly.

"Then that's all settled."

Madam Pince left mollified. Professor Snape glided away.

"You can let go of me now."

Albus let his hands drop to his sides. Minerva turned around.

"I'm glad you're back, Minerva, very, very glad."

Together they went into the hall for tea. Things were back to normal once again.

* * *

Author's Note: Whew! I had so many versions for this. I hope you like this one and that the bloodthirsty among you feel that Albus got some misery and suffering. Which bride should go next? What is Minerva up to, do you think?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Two men walked leisurely down Diagon Alley on the following Saturday morning. The shops had barely opened.

"I've never felt obliged to marry before now."

The two stopped in front of a shop selling magical curiosities. It seemed newly opened. They went in.

"In my younger years there was the thrill of discovery - the uses of dragon's blood, finding the Mirror of Erised and such."

Dignified, benevolent decay described the shop's interior - antiques and artifacts, the unique and the shabby, crowded the shelves and walls.

"After the bloom of youth had faded, the strength of middle age was spent warring against Grindelwald and his ilk."

The potions master handled a well-preserved specimen of a dragon's full-sized claw with expert gentleness.

"As my physical strength waned, my so-called wisdom and diplomacy were surprisingly in demand."

An amulet studded with rubies drew the eye's attention. Avarice could not long resist its lure were it not encased in a block of glass.

"Now I have neither youth nor vigor. There are no dark lords left to battle."

The headmaster spared a glance at a collection of puzzle boxes made of rare woods.

"Aside from political intrigues, no one needs anything from me."

Staked on one wall a grisly collection of sunken heads grinned vacuously as they passed by.

"The only task left to me is to continue my line. My brother sees no urgency for himself on this matter."

The younger professor peered cautiously into an ancient mariner's telescope. The lens was magically enhanced.

"I have little time to woo a woman, to indulge in finding if we suit and to chance upon falling into love."

The headmaster gazed upon a portrait of a schooner sailing along the ocean waves. Sailors scampered up and down the rigging agile as monkeys.

"I am no green lad and though I have not lived a monk's life there was always something else to do, someone else to help, somewhere else to explore."

The headmaster hesitated in front of a large oval mirror framed in ebony. The reflection was an auburn-haired youth barely on the cusp of manhood.

"Relationships, any relationship needs time to be nurtured. I did not spend my time wisely. Here, Severus, learn what lesson you may."

His companion gazed into the mirror. He did not see his youth but a folly instead - the dark mark. It was a mirror of regrets.

"The woman I marry is marrying not only me but my family, my friends. Who then better to choose than my friends?"

With a sigh, the headmaster turned into another aisle walking deeper into the shop where the air itself seemed stale and musty.

"Minerva will choose better than I could. No one understands me better. "

On a shelf hidden behind some pottery, Albus spotted a tall vase with what seemed like thistles and ferns engraved twining around the neck. He read the tag.

"A vase that fills with flowers to match the owner's mood. Ingenious."

The vase was turned and examined. The craftsmanship was intricate while the weight was surprisingly solid.

"Minerva would love this, wouldn't she?"

The younger man narrowed his eyes at the vase.

"Handmade of Brazilian rosewood. Unlike modern methods, the charm is in the very fiber of the wood itself."

Professor Snape could only nod. The price had left him speechless.

"This will look very much at home in her sitting room."

The headmaster paid for the vase, conjured a sturdy carrying bag and cast a shield spell on it. They went their separate ways.

* * *

The knock was unexpected. The gray cat looked up from her cozy perch on the windowsill. In the blink of an eye the door was opened by a the deputy headmistress.

"Good morning again, Minerva. May I come in?"

He was motioned inside.

"I come bearing a gift. Something to show my gratitude for the incident."

A vase was unveiled and gently positioned on an end table by the sofa. The woman was stunned.

"Inside this vase will grow any plant or flower that will suite or reflect your mood. There now, even in winter you shall have your flowers. Give me your hand."

Puzzled, Minerva extended her hand to him. He placed her hand against the vase.

"The vase now knows you're its owner."

As if obeying some secret directive, yellow and white daffodils began to shoot upwards from the vase.

"Thank you for saving me from Madam Pince's wrath."

Her shy smile was for him alone.

"What are the plans for this weekend?"

Fingers traced the fragile petals. The flowers changed colors to red-yellow and other to various shades of yellow.

"Elizabeth Whitcomb will be your guest this weekend, Albus."

Flowers have a language of their own. A meaning, an intention expressed in every flower.

"I hope she does not suffer from compulsive organization."

The deeper the hue of the petals, the deeper was the emotion or so it was meant.

"Elizabeth is vivacious, witty and gregarious but organized she is not."

In Victorian times, tongue-tied suitors employed flowers to woo and win.

"Will you be staying here?"

Young women responded in kind.

"Yes, yes, I will."

Inevitably, flowers lost their tongue in the modern world.

"I believe that Miss Whitcomb and I ought to dine out this evening. Madam Pince has not ceased staring daggers at me still."

There is no place for subtlety, grace or subdued passion any longer.

"I will leave you to enjoy your solitude, Minerva. I know how you love your tranquil Saturday mornings."

But even so, a flower is still a flower and a daffodil still stands for unrequited love.

* * *

Author's Note: Some reviewers have mentioned feeling confused and that the story is hard to understand. The style is not easy to read and difficult to stick to when writing. I've had to be more creative thinking of scenes as characters can only nod their heads so many times. But if you read it as it is, I think you will find your own imagination filling in the blanks far better than I could.

So, Albus sees Minerva as a close friend but not as a potential love object - not yet. Some people respond to a thick piece of wood to the head and others need pain, lots of it. Enter Miss Elizabeth Whitcomb.

Yes, Minerva is up to something and eventually she will get her man. In what condition that man will be in, well, we shall see won't we?.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

On Tuesday morning, in a bedchamber in the highest tower, lay a man. His eyes were wild. His breathing came in pants and gasps. The mediwitch passed her wand over her patient examining him for the third time that day.

"Well, other than the usual symptoms, you seem to be fine."

The patient groaned.

"Another charm, Poppy, please, just one more. A few minutes of relief is all I ask."

The nurse denied him with her characteristic clinical detachment.

"Charms will do more harm than good. The swelling and the pressure will subside on its own. You must let it run its course."

The man fidgeted and covered his eyes with his hands.

"I know you have no one of particular significance in your life but I don't see why you simply do not summon a –"

The man shook his head violently.

"NO! No Dumbledore male has EVER had to resort to THAT kind of … of help. I refuse to be the first."

In his agitation, Dumbledore moved his lower half a little too strenuously. His barely stifled scream echoed in the chamber.

"Suit yourself then."

The mediwitch left him to his thoughts. All too soon he knew he would have to take matters into his own hands once more.

* * *

Elizabeth Whitcomb, smartly dressed in tailored robes of sky blue trimmed in silver, strode up the front stairs of Hogwarts. Her every stride bespoke of confidence and poise. Her long dark hair and wide almond shaped eyes belied her Middle Eastern descent while her complexion marked her for an English rose. She was a striking, exotic woman.

"Elizabeth, you did not have to come here."

Minerva's eyes strayed towards the front gates watching for any members of the press who may have gotten through the security charms and followed her guest.

"Of course, I did, Minerva. I feel wretched about the whole thing."

Professor Flitwick came ambling by. He spied Miss Whitcomb and, well, scampered away, far, far away.

"I see my reputation precedes me."

Minerva chuckled and began to walk alongside Elizabeth.

"Can you blame them for being, ah, cautious, Elizabeth?"

Students whispered among themselves as Miss Whitcomb was recognized from the sensational headlines over the weekend.

"I suppose not but I do feel like a pariah. If I had known I certainly would not have gone near the poor man. But I had so wanted to meet him."

The Daily Prophet headline proclaimed "Dumbledore Rushed to Hospital."

"Of course you would never knowingly hurt anyone. You are fully cleared now, aren't you?"

The Quibbler had "Pig-headed Snorkbacks Sighted in Newfoundland."

"Clean bill of health from St. Mungo's best healers."

Even the dignified London Wizarding Times found the news irresistible and printed out "Femme Fatale Fells Dumbledore."

"I heard the strangest rumor, Minerva."

The World Wizardry Herald trumpeted "McGonagall Assumes Temporary Powers at Hogwarts."

"It seems that all the medical records regarding Albus' case vanished into thin air. Supposedly, all the attending healers were sworn to utter secrecy on pain of being permanently transformed into ferrets."

The London Chronicle had exclusive pictures of the couple having dinner and dancing on Saturday night on its center spread. They clearly were enjoying themselves.

"Imagine that. Tsk, tsk, people will imagine the most incredible things, Elizabeth, really."

The Welsh National Times headline read "Dumbledore in Seclusion at Hogwarts."

"Will he see me, do you think?"

The Glasgow Gazette ran a feature titled "Older Men, Younger Women – Is it for You?"

"I'm afraid not. He's not seeing anyone except our mediwitch or myself."

By Sunday's late edition, even the Quibbler had joined the ranks with "St Mungo's Cover Up - Dumbledore Case" on its front page.

"At his age, he must be so uncomfortable. Is he in much pain?"

Professor McGonagall nodded.

"The healer said that because he was such a powerful wizard that the effects would more, ah, pronounced."

A student passed by reading the Hogsmeade News as he walked. It said, "What's Wrong with Dumbledore?"

"It must have been something I picked up in New Guinea. I'm so horrid at organizational details like inoculations.

Minerva looked at her friend intently.

"Don't you remember my telling you that I've resumed my training to break the worldwide continuous apparating record? New Guinea was one of my stops before hitting the Asian mainland."

Minerva opened her office door.

"I came straight back here from Hong Kong after I got your owl to meet Albus."

Minerva hid her smile and poured them both a well-deserved cup of tea.

"I may not be the teenager you were but I am going to do my best to break your world record, Minerva."

Minerva raised her teacup in mock toast of this announcement.

"You wouldn't happen to want to trade tips or tell me the route you took would you?"

Minerva smiled widely and refused.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey blinked a few times before realizing that the line of men at her infirmary was not a figment of her imagination. Professor Flitwick was at the head of the line.

"Could you do a quick diagnostic, Poppy?"

Poppy crossed her arms and waited for an explanation.

"She's here at Hogwarts. I passed her in the main hall. Give me an inoculation, anything!"

Poppy rolled her eyes heavenward.

"You are being ridiculous. She is no longer a carrier. Her body harbors no contagion."

Flitwick stomped one foot.

"And what if I get the same symptoms as Albus, what then? I've read that tropical diseases are immune to modern spells. Albus has been flat on his back for two days now."

Poppy pressed her hands flat on her desk and silently counted to ten.

"Do you feel any discomfort, any of you? A growing pressure? An unnatural swelling of those parts?"

The men from Flitwick to Snape to Hagrid to Filch shook their heads.

"Are you experiencing a constant ache as if someone were say bouncing an anvil on your naked lap?"

More negative shaking of heads.

"Then you're all fine. Please vacate my ward immediately."

None of the men moved. Severus stepped forward.

"Symptoms may manifest themselves later, Poppy. Is there any way we can check ourselves?"

Poppy sighed. She wrote a few lines on a parchment and made four copies.

"Here are instructions on how to carry out a self-examination. Do the steps and let me know if you have any symptoms."

Four heads nodded. Hagrid read his parchment intently.

"Am I readin' this right? It says here I'm gonna be turnin' blue."

Flitwick paled, Snape looked thoughtful. Filch, strangely enough, looked like he was grinning.

"The muggles call it "blue balls", Hagrid, because that's exactly what a man gets. The rare magical variety is similar and more potent, longer lasting.."

Hagrid fainted straight away. The others fled.

* * *

That night Dumbledore heard his deputy calling his name. He quickly placed a pillow over his middle and pushed it slightly lower then covered himself with his blanket. Embarrassing though his condition was, he wanted to be presentable for her.

"I've brought more ice packs for you."

Dumbledore murmured his thanks.

"Can you stay awhile? Read to me. I'm able to forget my discomfort when I hear your voice."

Minerva browsed the bookcase.

"Something diverting, maybe an adventure but not … not exotic."

Minerva made herself comfortable on the couch where a tea service sat ready on a low table.

"I'm through with exotic places, women who go to exotic places, exotic anything."

She placed her tea within easy reach and opened the book she had chosen - The Count of Monte Cristo.

"It's the inner qualities of a woman that matter most. Kindness, understanding, loyalty those are more important."

Before an hour had passed, she heard gentle snores coming from the bed.

* * *

Author's Notes: Very tough to do better than Ms Sageworth so did a different approach here. Next chapter - more on Minerva's plans. Thank you to all reviewers and, readers, enjoy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Minerva was hot. There was no better description than that.

"Did I add too much henbane? I shouldn't be this ... this feverish."

The black slip she wore was made of the finest of silks yet it still felt too constricting.

"Maybe too little of it. This is what comes of modifying ancient recipes. Severus warned me. I should have listened."

Desperate fingers threw powder into the fireplace. Flames green as grass rose up.

"Severus, I need you, please. Something's gone wrong with the rejuvenation potion."

Her plea met no resistance. She stood back and waited. Perspiration beaded on her forehead.

* * *

The robes billowed behind him. Snape's footfalls made hardly a sound. His hands he kept inside his pockets, keeping safe several vials and flasks. 

"Severus, out on your rounds so late?"

Shafts of moonlight lit filtered through the tall windows. The older man walked across to him.

"It's almost midnight. I would think all the students were in bed by now."

He nodded. His fingers, long and deft, tightened their hold on his precious cargo.

"I've been in bed for so long I felt the need to stretch my legs. It's good to be about again."

The headmaster kept pace with the younger man's longer strides.

"You needn't do all these rounds, Severus. Get some rest."

The potions master's steps slowed the closer he got to Gryffindor Tower.

"I had some things to tend to, Albus. I'm on my way to the kitchens to get some tea now."

Blue eyes shone bright with interest.

"Splendid. I'll join you. I feel like some hot cocoa myself."

Every passing minute weighed heavily on his mind as two pairs of feet made their way to the kitchens.

"The castle feels different at night, doesn't it, Severus?"

He had never heard Minerva so ... so uncontrolled. How to get away?

"Full of possibilities I like to think."

Severus paused a few steps from the front of Minerva's door.

"Albus, I don't believe I'll have that tea after all."

The older man looked crestfallen.

"Why don't you go ahead to the kitchens while I return to my quarters now and -"

Her door flew open. Animagi ears were indeed very acute.

"Aaaaah!"

Capable feminine hands gripped his robes pulling him half off his feet and dragging him inside. Eyes glassy with panic pleaded for his help.

"There you are, Severus."

Off to the side unnoticed by the woman, aged blue eyes widened in surprise. Ears took note of the husky depths of her voice.

"I need you."

There was a quicksilver glimpse of long tapered legs bared to mid thigh.

"I was fine, just fine, until an hour ago."

She stood there briefly silhouetted in shadow and moonlight - dark tresses falling upon her back, silk clinging to her shapely form. She was no nubile young nymph but very much a true woman in her prime.

"I ... I want to rip every stitch off me!"

The door began to close.

"Do something before I go mad, Severus."

The door shut. Dumbledore stood stock still for a long time staring at the door in disbelief. A few minutes later he returned to his room. All thoughts of hot cocoa had evaporated from his mind.

* * *

At breakfast the next day, Thursday it was, curious eyes awaited the arrival of several faculty members. Dumbledore buttered his toast with a serenity at odds with the chaos of his thoughts. 

"Good morning, Albus, is Minerva having breakfast in her rooms today?"

His grasped his knife just a little tighter. His knife slashed across the bread in short, jerky strokes.

"I don't know, Poppy. Perhaps, she's just late."

The mediwitch walked on to her customary seat. His eyes darted to another empty seat at table, one belonging to Snape. He too had yet to make an appearance.

"How are you feeling, Albus?"

Dumbledore poured himself his third cup of coffee.

"Quite recovered, Filius. Tell me, how goes your research on that new charm you were telling me about?"

Almost halfway through the meal, his deputy walked in from the side door and took her seat.

"Good morning, Minerva."

Minerva nodded. She sat down slowly as one would if one were nursing a sore body.

"Are you all right?"

Dumbledore poured some coffee for her. Her movements he noticed were slow but her eyes were alert. It was none of his business. They were adults after all.

"You seem tired. Perhaps I should take your classes for today."

She shook her head firmly while putting three lumps of sugar, two more than normal, into her cup.

"A few cups of coffee is all I need. Thank you for the offer just the same."

The potions master strode down the center aisle. Dumbledore thought he looked, well, less severe, than normal.

"Albus, have you thought about ... about ending this selection business?"

Albus took a sip of coffee. Snape made his way to the staff table heading towards the center of it.

"You mean because of what happened with Elizabeth?"

Minerva downed her first cup and began to pour a second.

"Yes, I just thought you may be having second thoughts."

Professor Snape paused behind Minerva's chair. She looked up at him expectantly.

"Excuse me, Albus. I need to inquire if Professor McGonagall has a few minutes before her first class to review some disciplinary matters between houses."

Dumbledore smiled benignly and turned his attention to his half eaten breakfast. He reminded himself that whatever was going on was none of his business. They were unmarried adults and exemplary professors.

"I have a free period first thing today. I'll see you in your office, shall I?"

Snape nodded and made his way to his seat. Minerva began to fill her plate with the makings of a hearty breakfast.

"Did you like Elizabeth, Albus?"

Albus eyed Minerva's unusual breakfast. He shut his mind to further speculation as to the cause of her appetite. It was none of his business. He blinked a few times shaking off images of shapely legs that went on forever.

"I did find her wit to be great company."

Dumbledore could not resist a quick look at Professor Snape. He too was partaking of a breakfast heartier than his usual fare.

"Do you have someone else in mind, Minerva?"

Minerva smiled at him.

"Someone younger perhaps?"

Minerva reached for another piece of toast.

"A friend of mine, Adelphia Wishton, has invited me to a charity benefit this Saturday."

He recognized the name but could not place it instantly.

"Adelphia needs an escort."

Dumbledore looked at her puzzled.

"You want me to escort her?"

Minerva nodded. He looked at her directly. He needed to know once and for all.

"What about you? Will you not need an escort?"

Minerva shook her head. She took another sip of coffee.

"It shall be a double date with you and Adelphia and me and ... and my date."

He could only nod dumbly in agreement. Minerva continued to attack her breakfast.

"I feel quite bad about what happened with Amelia and Elizabeth, Albus. This time should you have any problems with Adelphia, which I highly doubt for she is wise and witty enough to dazzle anyone, I shall be right there."

Unconsciously, Dumbledore gripped the armrest of his chair. His eyes darted from Minerva to Severus then back to Minerva. It was none of his business how serious their relationship was, none at all.

* * *

Author's Note: No more physical pain but a little psychological torture never hurt anyone, did it? Many, many thanks to reviewers. Enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Long after dinner had ended, Minerva made her decision. With deliberation, she slowly poured the last bottle of her redesigned rejuvenation potion into her bathroom sink.

"This is for the best, Minerva. Tampering with nature is always chancy."

Minerva placed the now empty vial next to a half dozen others. She had emptied each one.

"Come on into the bedroom. I want to do one more examination to make sure there are no other lingering symptoms."

Reluctant fingers began to untie the sash of her bath robe as Minerva made her way into her bedroom.

"Sit on the bed please."

Poppy examined her with unusual thoroughness. No body part escaped scrutiny not even her fingernails. Several anxious minutes passed.

"Minerva, your little experiment has left its mark."

This was greeted by a raised eyebrow.

"You have spent decades keeping your natural urges under control and - "

A head shook vigorously in denial.

"Really, not decades? Tell me, when WAS the last time you had relations with a man?"

Silence.

"So long ago, you can't even remember. Well, Ms. McGonagall, you are about to experience a reversal of circumstance."

Minerva's eyes widened.

"The rejuvenation treatment when finished was intended to give you back the vitality and health of your mid-twenties. Since you have not finished the end of the treatment, it has reverted your physical health to about your early thirties at this time."

Minerva swallowed nervously.

"Your skin is taut. I can't find a single age spot. Your muscle tone is firm. Nothing sags, droops or jiggles any longer."

The patient waited knowing there was worse to come.

"But your transformation did not come without a price. My scans show your hormones are grossly imbalanced. Not only do you now have the vim and vigor you had at thirty, you have the sex drive of the same age, or you will very soon."

Minerva buried her head in her her hands.

"I suspect the heat flashes last night were only the beginning. The first signs. Frankly speaking, Minerva, your now thirtyish libido combined with years of supression is ... is a ticking time bomb."

There was a sharp rap at the door. Grateful for the distraction, Minerva tied her night robe about her and went through to her sitting room to open the door.

"Minerva, close the door quickly. Albus has been giving me the oddest looks all day. I do not want a repeat of last night."

Minerva ushered Snape into the sitting room. Poppy came in from the bedroom and took a seat on the couch.

"Last night? What happened last night?"

One face brightened with amusement while another turned away, embarrassed.

"Albus saw Minerva pull me into her rooms. I'm sure he must have seen Minerva's night attire, or lack of it."

Giggles erupted from the sofa.

"You are not helping, Poppy! Severus played with me in my cat form all night to distract me from the flashes."

The giggles subsided to be replaced by helpless flailing of arms and audible snickers.

"Albus thinks ... he thinks that you and Severus are ... are .... "

Minerva crossed her arms setting her face to its most sternest aspect.

"Poppy, please. Nothing about this is amusing."

Snape removed a vial from his robe pocket and held it to the light briefly before giving it to Minerva.

"This is used for witches in their Time of Change, Minerva. I believe it will reduces the heat flashes to a tolerable level."

Minerva nodded. The mirth emanating from the sofa began to subside to mere chuckling.

"What now, Minerva? I cannot advise that you continue with the potion and - "

Minerva began to pace the length of her sitting room. Poppy and Severus watched her anxiously from the sofa.

"I have decided to end the rejuvenation treatment as the potion's effects are so unpredictable. But I don't intend to stop my overall plan. I can't. I've gone too far."

Poppy gasped. Severus' eyes crinkled at the corners in speculation.

"I intend to continue with my exercise regiment, visits to the spa from time to time and generally taking better care of myself now than I did when I WAS thirty."

Minerva stopped pacing and looked at her friends and colleagues for their reaction.

"To Albus, I am no more than the reliable, dependable and SENSIBLE woman he's always had by his side all these years. He's absolutely right. I have done nothing but ... but bury myself in work, neglecting my own needs to take care of other people's children. Well, I tell you now, I have had ENOUGH! No more!

Poppy clapped her hands and smiled gleefully.

"I want Albus to see me for the woman that I am."

Snape tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"And this business with the brides, Minerva?"

An unholy light flickered in the head of Gryffindor's eyes.

"Albus asked me to help him find a bride based on his specific requirements, Severus. I AM his deputy and a good, loyal friend, am I not?"

Exclamations of disbelief filled the room.

"I shall fulfill this charge he's given me. However, as a good friend, I can do no less than to reveal to him the error of his ways. Let him compare me to his requirements and decide for himself. I shall not be found wanting."

Later in the evening, a bottle of good wine sat nearly empty on the coffee table. Poppy had departed but Severus stayed waiting for Minerva to take the Time of Change potion so he could ascertain any ill effects, if there were any.

* * *

In the high tower office, the headmaster reread the latest missive from Minister Fudge for the fourth time. With a sigh, he removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"My concentration is not serving me well tonight, Fawkes. It is all gibberish to me."

The phoenix chirped positively.

"But this needs to be answered by tomorrow. Perhaps a fresh set of eyes will help."

Albus waved a hand at the fireplace and called out for Professor McGonagall's rooms. Almost immediately, the green fire gave way to a view of her sitting room, the coffee table and sofa where Professor Snape lay, clothed and relaxed.

"Albus? Let me call Minerva."

The headmaster breathed deeply and composed himself. He checked the clock. It was just past midnight.

"Albus, did you need something?"

Albus stared at the vision engulfed in a halo of emerald flames. Her eyes held a sensual languor in their gaze at odds with her usual kind but stern demeanor. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders. Her robes, he noticed, were not tartan but silk - green silk with what seemed like silvery trimmings.

"Still working this late? Go to bed, Albus. Fudge can wait for his instructions, surely."

Words had deserted him. Dumbledore nodded dumbly and doused the summoning fire. It was a few minutes until he found his voice again.

"I should not expect her ... her attentions to be solely mine, should I, Fawkes?"

A forlorn hoot sounded from the corner.

"I am suddenly quite tired after all. Good night, Fawkes."

* * *

Author's Note: I know I'm twisting the knife a little deeper still. Hopefully this sheds light on Minerva's motives. Back to humor in the next chapter.

My apologies for the very delayed updates. I have an ongoing love-hate relationship with chemotheraphy so fic updates are not necessarily on my top to do list. I do intend to finish my WIPs.

Enjoy!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Handsome men and elegant ladies twirled about the dance floor. Albus sat next to Adelphia Wishton watching the dancers. Now and then Minerva would flit by on the arm of a different man.

"I'm so glad Minerva decided to come. It's usually quite difficult to pry her from the school."

Dumbledore's eyes automatically trailed after Minerva. Was this her fourth or fifth straight dance?

"Of course, her duties are vital. Hogwarts would not be the finest of its kind without her would it now?"

Albus' spine tensed as Minerva's partner's hand wandered off course. It seemed to be a common affliction for many of her dance partners.

"In our year, her studies always came first. Though many had their eye on her. I'm so glad she's enjoying herself."

Nostrils flared almost imperceptively. The Hand was slowly making its way south.

"That backless dress is stunning. I must ask where she got it from."

Blue eyes swept across a figure - often hidden under layers of robes - now gloriously revealed. There was none of the vigorous sexuality of youth yet Minerva's languid graceful glide and sway hinted at buried sensuality.

"She's kept her figure. I'm so envious."

Hackles rose as the Hand found rest on a very shapely posterior.

"Oh, dear, I'm just going on and on. I must be boring you to tears."

Albus shook his head. His fingers gripped the sides of his chair. One pat.

"Let's talk about you."

One pat. When a body leans too far in one direction the result is inevitable. Albus fell into a heap on the floor but his eyes never left the wanderingHand.

"Oh, Albus, are you all right? Must be a faulty chair or a wet spot. How very careless."

The chair was righted. Albus resumed his seat, breathing in great gulps of air.

"Waiter, another drink here, please, and a pitcher of pumpkin juice for the headmaster."

Two pats. One squeeze. Eyebrows rose in outrage. Legs tensed ready to spring into action.

"Tell me, Albus, I've always wanted to know, is it true that beards are a sign of great manliness?"

A firm feminine hand placed the Hand in its proper position.

"And if so, how great is great?"

Caught off guard by her question, Albus blinked and then laughed.

"Adelphia?"

A shadow loomed over their table. A tall, sharply handsome man stood by their table.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. Late surgery I'm afraid. I hope Minerva accepts my apology. The male date is not supposed to be the one keeping the fairer half waiting."

Adelphia smiled at her older brother. Albus took the measure of Ranulf Wishton, chief healer and administrator of St. Mungo's. He cut a very impressive figure.

"You haven't seen her in years, have you? She's over there."

The music stopped. The musicions begged for a brief rest. The dancers mingled into various groups. Minerva stood out surrounded as she was by men.

"My word ! That's Minerva McGonagall - strict head girl with a heart of gold, the terror of the Library and intrepid defender of the helpless?"

The dress and Minerva together posed a temptation that few males could ignore. With only one thought in mind, Ranulf made his way towards her.

"Oh, Albus, the charity auction is about to begin. Since I am an organizer I must be there. Would you be so kind to bid on one or two things?"

Albus smiled through gritted teeth. He led her out of the ballroom sparing one glance behind him to see Minerva greeting Ranulf. It seemed a very warm greeting to him.

* * *

Later that night, the old wizard stretched his arms wide grateful to be home. Beside him, his advisor stood being petted and stroked. 

"Silence, blessed silence. I never valued it more, Fawkes."

The adviser trilled knowingly.

"Adelphia was a very deft hostess, the model of grace under pressure. Quite intelligent conversation, too."

Another trill.

"Oh, striking. She's taken very good care of herself. Wonderful dancer."

Feathers swished as the adviser got cozy.

"But the chatter was endless. Harmless, sometimes quite funny but it flitted from one topic to another all night long."

The adviser rubbed its head against the man's hand.

"I suppose one could train oneself to stop hearing now and then."

The adviser cooed.

"But silence can be comfortable too. I'd like a little silence between a little conversation, is that asking too much?"

* * *

Back at the ball, Minerva found herself in great demand. Too great, actually. She had never been so popular. 

"Adelphia, I must bid you good night."

Several men protested loudly while others flashed their most charming smiles and begged her to stay.

"I would love to stay but I find myself quite tired. I'm not used to such late nights after all."

Ranulf shooed the others away gallantly. At Hogwarts' gates, he bade goodbye with a kiss a few notches above chaste and just below carnal lust. His hands did not wander, much.

"I'd like to have dinner next weekend, Minerva. Is that possible?"

Minerva, having heard more than two dozen such requests tonight, patted his arm and nodded. She would embark on apologies and damage control tomorrow.

* * *

The adviser crooned a low tune in the tower. 

"Minerva's back?"

Dumbledore rose and made his way to the front hall.

"Albus, still awake?"

He nodded. Even in the dim light she was radiant.

"A very exciting ball. I'm still trying to, ah, wind down."

Minerva rose up the stairs quickly to stand by him on the landing.

"I am heartily glad that tomorrow is Sunday. I have every intention of having a lie in."

His eyes were drawn to her lips as she spoke. They were swollen and wet, newly ravished. Why his blood pressure ticked up a notch he really couldn't say.

"Did you have a good time with Adelphia?"

The grey head nodded.

"I told you that Adelphia would be good company. Well, good night then, Albus."

His mouth moved to say something, anything to prolong the conversation but nothing came out. He watched her till she disappeared from view.

* * *

Author's Note: I put this up on my home page but forgot to update here. Sorry. Minerva's sudden popularity couldn't possibly have anything to do with her unfinished rejuvenation treatment, would it? Hope you can tell that Albus is seeing Minerva as a woman now but still his friend. The green-eyed monster isn't being recognized, yet. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

In the gardens the next day strolled two friends out for an afternoon constitutional.

"Well, of course, I'm thinking of marriage, Poppy."

Behind a thick hedge, an old man was brought to a standing stop.

"Why now? I've flitted from one thing to another."

The still form shook off any internal debate as to the propriety of eavesdropping.

"When we're young we look for passion or the grand escape. I suppose what I'm looking for has changed. Do you see?"

Her companion murmurred in the affirmative.

"Or perhaps I've finally realized what love looks like."

Step for step, the old man trailed them. His brow was furrowed in concentration.

"Whatever the reason, I want what I want. I have one chance. I don't intend to waste it."

The old man pressed himself against the hedge.

"Is it worth it? I won't know until the end. As for the rest of it I ..."

Aged ears strained to hear more of the feminine voice gone uncharacteristically soft and wistful.

"Do I seem desperate, Poppy? I do not feel so yet I cannot ignore the march of time or the loneliness that chills my bed each night."

Her companion's remark was lost to the listener. Their follower was sorely distracted as he pondered his deputy's confession.

"I am through with denial and indulging in romantic illusions of my chosen knight sweeping me off my feet someday."

The old man stumbled at hearing the deep disappointment in her every word.

"Despite everything, I am more determined than ever. Besides, I can't stop now. I happen to like the side benefits."

Twin giggles erupted. The ladies returned to the castle leaving the old man to a solitary amble around the lake accompanied only by his thoughts.

* * *

The old man returned to his rooms. He paced while his adviser listened patiently.

"I've been a selfish man, Fawkes."

The adviser trilled sharply.

"I have. Truly. I've asked so much of Minerva with no thought of how it must be interfering with her own life."

Wings fluttered.

"I am not worthy of such a selfless friend, but I intend to repair that."

The adviser coo-ed though to unpracticed ears it did sound mournful.

"She is a wonderful woman and she deserves all her dreams. She will not be disappointed."

* * *

At dinner, one friend shocked another to slack-jawed speechlessness.

"I thought you would find the idea has merit. I have quite a few in mind."

Minerva stared back at Albus as if he had just grown two horns and a tail.

"It is rather sudden. You see I was thinking that I ought to return the favor."

Minerva looked helplessly at Poppy who had heard Albus' every word.

"Last night I realized how much you enjoyed the social whirl. You are a very good dancer, Minerva."

His deputy could only nod.

"You are so dedicated to the school that you rarely have enough time to yourself. Is that not so?"

Minerva nodded again.

"Since you are introducing me to your friends, I shall introduce you to some of mine. What attributes are YOU desiring in a man, my dear?"

Minerva sputtered. Words formed on the tip of her tongue yet none could be forced out coherently.

"Albus, I don't believe Minerva needs help in that area."

The lady in question drank several gulps of water.

"Of course not, Poppy. I'm merely adding to her pool of acquaintances. Whether she chooses to see them is up to her."

Minerva took a deep calming breath.

"Albus, I appreciate your ... your thoughtfulness but I can fend -"

A long shadow fell down the center aisle. Minerva could be politely described as being quite annoyed at the intruder.

"You're early. You should have owled me to confirm your arrival."

The hooded figure shrugged. The headmaster looked at his deputy.

"Punctuality was always your strongest suit."

The figure became a vision as the outer robe was discarded to reveal an angelic valkyrie molded from human flesh.

"We shall have to make the best of things like always."

The willowy angel moved with the sensual ease of a courtesan. Her blond locks rippled down her back. Her skin fairly glowed with the health and vitality of a much, much younger woman.

"Albus Dumbledore may I present a distant cousin, Ingrid DeMilo Hoffman Stewart Rathzinger Bennett."

Ingrid stretched out a graceful hand to the headmaster who brought her hand to his lips.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennett, an absolute pleasure."

Author's Note: Ok, this is now Bride #4. Amelia Sageworth was Intelligence. Elizabeth Whitcomb was Wit. Adelphia Wishton was Wisdom and now we have Beauty. What do you think about Albus' new mission? Albus is not heartless but he does wander down the wrong path, even with the best of intentions.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The adviser preened. The male portraits smartened themselves up. The females rolled their eyes heavenward at the universal gullibility of the male gender. The headmaster sat opposite Ingrid in his office. He in his chair and she in the comfortable but straightback chair that Minerva usually favored.

"I'm sorry I could not meet you at your home, Ingrid. As you can see, paperwork waits for no one."

She smiled sweetly.

"But as you are fond of saying, my dear, to everything there is a time. Shall we go to dinner? I've selected a small, but very fine, establishment in Hogsmead village."

The woman stood up with unconscious grace.

"You see I have an early morning meeting at the Ministry tomorrow. Were it not for that I would escort you somewhere further afield."

He held open her cloak for her. His eyes lingered on her golden tresses. He breathed in her gentle feminine fragrance.

"I completely understand, Albus. I just hope that you have not forgotten our trip to Salzburg to visit my family home next weekend. I have made arrangements already for me to pamper and spoil you."

The headmaster grinned. Phineas Nigellus barely hid his envy towards the woman and the words she didn't say. Dilys Derwent narrowed her eyes at the vixen's brazenness.

"You work too hard. I'm sure the Ministry and the school can survive without you for a weekend."

The phoenix cooed mournfully on his perch.

"Oh, Fawkes, you lovely bird, you are coming, aren't you? I would be disappointed if you did not."

Albus shook his head.

"Fawkes stays here when I am away, my dear. This way if I am needed there is a quick way to contact me."

Ingrid turned around. She grazed his cheeks with a fine elegant, perfectly manicured hand.

"I'm sure that my indomitable, highly accomplished cousin can manage any kind of emergency. She is a McGonagall, born and bred to duty and loyalty."

Albus frowned. His indecision was plain.

"We have been getting to know each other for the last three weeks. Most of that time surrounded by gossipmongers and their ilk. Just this once, Albus, can't I have you and your pet all to myself in true privacy?"

Faced with this simple request, how could he resist? The headmaster agreed to her wish. They left the office.

"I do not believe it."

"Believe it, Dilys, Albus has settled on her."

'But, Phineas, she is ... is ... is ill-suited for him."

"She is an eligible female, sunny of temper, pleasant of voice, stunning of form, a fine conversationalist and agrees with Fawkes. What pray tell is wrong with that?"

Phineas winced as he felt a shock to his midsection.

"Presented with limpid eyes and generous curves a man loses all perspective and reason. It never changes!"

The other portraits jostled in their frames. The topic of the headmaster's bride search had provided them with weeks of amusement.

"She is bent on seducing him. Cannot any of you fatheaded men see the strumpet for what she is?"

Several male voices rose up all at once in protest. Armando Dippet's voice was heard last.

"Miss Bennett has been the model of decorum and charm, Dilys. As to the other matter, well, it may be time for them to see if they suit in the, ah, er, physical sense."

A chorus of longing sighs, all male, echoed throughout the room.

"It's Mrs. Mrs. Bennett, you dolts! Mark my words, nothing good will come of this."

* * *

The staff room was not full. Several teachers, including the deputy headmistress, marked their papers and conversed easily amongst themselves. The school nurse glided in. 

"There you are, Minerva. I'm ready to go."

Minerva shook her head.

"We have been plannning this for nearly a week."

Minerva was adamant in her refusal.

"An hour or two at the pub will not endanger your position and can only improve your mood."

Minerva beckoned at the tall pile of essays to her left and another smaller pile of tests on her right.

"And I'm sure the students will live through tomorrow without their graded materials. Let's go, ladies!"

Minerva knew when a battle was lost. She rose along with Professor Sprout and followed the nurse out.

* * *

It was later reported, well, gossiped, that the Three Broomsticks had never seen the like before. Madam Rosmerta was a loss to explain what happened. The only thing she knew was that it had started with the least likely individual that anyone would ever suspect of garnering such ardent devotion and desire.. 

"Here you are, Minerva, another drink from that far table."

The callow youths stared entranced at the black-haired witch flanked by two of her friends sitting at a table across the room. They smiled shyly when said witch glanced their way.

"You can't be serious, Rosmerta. They can't be old enough to shave. Someone is playing a very expensive practical joke. I am not finding any of this the least bit amusing."

A stalwart young man raised his glass to her. His mates did the same.

"Now, Minerva, you said the same thing when that group of traveling salesmen paid for a round for the whole pub in your honor. And, you, gentlemen, will there be anything else you need?"

Six men, arrayed around the table, some sitting, some standing, all smiled and gestured for a refill.

"Another refill? I don't think that's wise at all. It's late and ... and ..."

Minerva looked with dismay at her admirers. Beside her Poppy and Sprout watched it all with amusement. Oh, how they would tease Minerva later.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please, surely you've all, ah, tired of our company. It has been nearly an hour."

To a man, each shook his head no. They all started to talk at once, each trying to make his case.

"I'm incredibly flattered, but really, I ... I have no time ... and ... and ... so sudden. I really do have to leave."

Her friends rose with her. The half dozen gentlemen rose. The seven youths rose and began to make their way to the table. Several men at the bar moved to the edge of their seats.

"We've had a wonderful night. Thank you so much for the ... the drinks, the songs, the poetry. We have to go."

Minerva half dragged her companions out the door. The cool night air was a balm to her hot cheeks.

"I will not hear another word about this. Do you hear me? If anyone finds out, I'm -"

Her friends cackled.

"Oh, Minerva, there is no hope of keeping this escapade quiet."

Minerva looked questioningly at Professor Sprout who was vainly trying to compose herself. The head of Hufflepuff gestured behind her. Minerva looked behind them.

"Oh, my Merlin!"

A veritable mob of males dogged their trail - more than a dozen less than twenty. Minerva groaned.

"Come on, let's get to the school gates. What a horrid, horrid night."

Back at the Three Broomsticks, the sweeping rasp and click on an auto quill could be heard in the far corner.

* * *

An hour later, Poppy Pomfrey consulted several large tomes opened wide on her desk. She and Minerva had headed straight for the infirmary upon their arrival. 

"I'm just guessing, Minerva. I mean this is such a unique case."

Minerva's pacing did not abate. Frustration and anger radiated from her.

"How bad is it going to be?"

Her longtime friend shrugged. Severus Snape bustled in.

"Severus, do you have news?"

He looked Minerva up and down.

"Your fan club has left the gates, Minerva. A more pathetic group of men I have never seen."

Snape dropped several parchments on to the desk.

"There are some references in these that may prove useful. I did not see mentioned of an antidote or palliative."

Minerva gritted her teeth lest she screamed out to the world.

"It's completely natural. Perhaps if it were not so, there would be a ready cure but ... I've never heard of a similar case. I am puzzled why you would be having this problem. Nothing in the treatment would indicate this as a possible consequence."

Poppy flipped a few more pages. She gasped.

"I found something. It's side effect because of your animagi abilities interfering with the treatment. Your body is releasing pheromones in ever increasing quantities and has been for some time. Men, who you do not know, will be helplessly drawn to you. I don't think there's anyway to stop it. We can only wait until your body reduces the levels on its own."

Minerva wrapped her arms around her.

"That must explain what happened at the dance. I was quite popular. What am I going to do?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The prisoner paced in her sitting room too restless to sit and much too anxious to feign calmness. Her usual elegant control was but a distant fond memory.

"The school board will have my head if this is discovered."

The dark, lean man lying on the sofa stopped his perusal of a thick tome long enough to shake his head.

"I ought to have realized something was happening when the seventh year boys and some of the girls began to ... to squirm in their seats."

A guffaw rose from the sofa.

"I could barely explain to the girls and ... and leading the boys to the infirmary was dreadfully embarassing."

The sofa fairly shook so hard was its occupant's laughter.

"Go! Go! If you have nothing constructive to say, Severus, then you may leave!"

With effort, Professor Snape sobered with only the occasional snicker escaping his lips. He returned his attention to his book _Witches and Hormones - The Original Witches Brew_. Another book lay on the side table _Potions and Pheromones - A Dangerous Mix._

"I have assigned my seventh years a ... a long research project in lieu of class time. What else could I do!."

The fireplace roared green flame. Poppy's face appeared.

"Minerva, I've sent the last of your Gryffindors to their tower. It seems that they fully believe the story we floated about an airborne potion gone awry."

Minerva peered into the fire. Her tense shoulders relaxed fractionally.

"Thank you, Poppy. I shall see you for that examination in the morning."

There came a soft knock on the door. The green fire was quickly extinguished.

"Minerva, I just came by to inform you that the school is in your charge until ... ah, tomorrow."

Green eyes narrowed ever so slightly towards the striking blonde standing by the headmaster.

"Of course, Albus. Enjoy your evening."

Icy blue eyes lingered over the prone form of the potions master who had not bothered to stop his intent reading.

"The same to you, Minerva and, er, you, Severus."

The headmaster became aware of a quick tightening grip on his arm. A twin reaction to the sudden uptick in his blood pressure.

"Severus, I don't believe I've introduced you to Ingrid. Ingrid Bennett, our resident potions master, Severus Snape."

The professor had no choice but to stand and acknowledge the introduction. Cool feminine eyes took his measure quickly head to foot before darting to the other woman who looked far from comfortable.

"Did you know, Albus, that the family has always thought that cousin Minerva was languishing alone here all these years. I am gratified to see that is not the case."

In the corner, a vase shot forth an effusive profusion of rosebay rhododendrons followed by bunches of peonies. But the display went unnoticed.

"Strangely enough, Ingrid, I've never given you a second thought. Do enjoy your evening, Albus."

Albus and Ingrid left leaving a seething woman gritting her teeth.

"Oh, don't be shy Minerva. Reveal your true feelings."

Snape ducked to avoid a well-aimed pillow streaking towards his head.

"Beyond striking looks, abundant charms both physical and otherwise, what does she have that you do not?"

Snape found himself propelled backwards towards the sofa by the powerful momentum of a furious ball of fur. Determined claws sunk deep into his tunic.

"It was YOUR idea after all!"

Growls not purrs filled his ears.

* * *

The restaurant staff was most attentive. The music bordered on the divine. The food was inspiration itself. All eyes were on the headmaster and his deathly beautiful dinner companion.

"I've never seen Minerva so ... so effervescent. She looks decades younger."

A quiet mumble came from the man sitting opposite her.

"Perhaps she's finally taking my advice about skincare. And, of course, the attentions of a younger man can cure almost anything."

A scrumptious chocolate eclair sat uneaten on the desert tray. In fact the entire tray had not been touched at all.

"About Salzburg, Ingrid."

The mention of the upcoming weekend was greeted by a dazzling smile.

"Shall we apparate there together on Friday?"

Ingrid placed her hand in his.

"I am very much looking forward to meeting your family. And you are correct, it's time we had some time just for us."

Dumbledore rose and led Ingrid to the dance floor. It was certainty that they would be in the Prophet's social pages the next day.

* * *

A little after midnight, Hagrid jogged to the forest, crossbow at the ready. He peered into the forest but saw nothing. Nothing to warrant the cacophony of noise - growls, squeals, shrieks - coming from the forest.

"Sumthing strange, a'right, Fang."

Cautiously, he began to step deeper into the forest. A rhythmic thudding assaulted his ears. The sound was coming closer. A familiar form leaped into view.

"Bane! Do you know what's happening? Bane!"

The centaur ignored the half giant. Bane sniffed the air. His head turned at the sound of a giggle - a distinctly feminine giggle. His nostrils flared. His haunches tensed and he sprang away chasing the elusive female.

"Fang! I don't like this. Not at all. Let's head back to the hut."

A few minutes later, a gray cat streaked out of the forest pursued by all manner of feline beasts, large and small. Legs pumped. Lungs burned. Up, up the school steps, through the main doors and into the arms of safety.

"Minerva! Is ... is that you!"

The cat transformed into a mature, raven-haired woman dressed for bed but not for sleeping. Black silk undulated over the the peaks and valleys of her figure. Her bare shoulders were covered in the glistening sheen of perspiration. Her uncovered legs trembled from her frantic run.

"What's wrong? Where ... where is your robe? Wha -"

Toes strained to lift upward. Hips pressed forward insistently. Determined fingers pulled a head down. Lips sought lips. Volcanic heat coaxed and teased. A flicker of shy recognition responded after the initial surprise. The conflageration simmered to a steady fiery burning brighter, hotter than either ever experienced before.

* * *

A/N: Well, the story turns and turns. Shall it be Door #1 Unbridled Passion or Door #2 Stubborn Denial or Door #3 Surprise Me Please? In the last paragraph I wanted to express mounting desire and passion without being graphic or too detailed. Is it effective?

Rhododendron, Rosebay means Danger; Beware

Peonies means Anger


	13. Chapter 13

A graceful neck arched upwards as eyelids fluttered.

"Oh, another ten minutes please. Have you slept at all?"

The blanket slid down and off skin flushed, moist and bare.

"Merlin! I had no idea ALL THAT was possible."

A feminine hand slid languidly along velvet sheets then through silky tousled locks.

"Did I pass out at some point?"

A slim back strained and stretched lifting off the bed slightly.

"What can I do for you to help you, uhm, recover?"

Slender legs rubbed together throwing off all vestiges of a blanket.

"I'll get us tea, shall I. I'm ravenous."

A robe was draped and tied at the waist with quick efficient movements while the man, long unused to severe exertion, collapsed on the bed.

"Minerva! Are you awake yet!? Minerva?"

Hands paused in mid-pour as their owner addressed the blazing green fire in the fireplace.

"Not so loud, Poppy. I'm quite awake. Good morning to you, too."

One lump of sugar plopped into the first tea cup.

"I believe the treatment as you put it worked. I feel energized but not manic, definitely not manic."

One lump of sugar went into the other. After a second's hesitation, a second and third was added.

"It was indescribable and obviously very effective."

Tea sloshed into the first cup.

"I marvel at his concentration and stamina."

The fires blazed and Poppy came through herself.

"I suppose he's abed recovering his senses."

A quick swish of wand and a third cup of tea joined the pair previous.

"He gave me his all. I don't know how to repay him."

A dollop of cream went into the first cup.

"Thank Fortuna that he was quick-witted enough to get you to bed and away from the entrance hall where anyone could have seen you."

Two lumps of sugar landed in the third cup.

"And the animals on the front steps, what happened to them?"

The second cup was filled halfway with cream.

"Hagrid chased them away an hour ago. Though a few keep returning and he has to shoo them away again."

No cream for the first cup.

"I feel so bad. Everything I've done has inconvenienced so many."

Hot tea steamed in the second cups.

"You could hardly be blamed. How could you know all this would happen. Stop blaming yourself."

Firm hands poured tea into the first cup as Poppy cast a diagnostic spell on Minerva.

"Your hormone levels have levelled off. I believe it's stable now."

Cool lips sipped the refreshing heat.

"No, I don't think it will fluctuate as wildly as before. Your system needed to find a new equilibrium and it has now if slightly higher than your past normal levels."

Minerva set her cup down. She lifted the first cup in one hand and a scone in the other hand.

"I've got to rouse him and get some tea into him."

Poppy followed Minerva into the bedroom. Her brows rose at the less than orderly condition of the room - bed drapes pulled down. pillows here and there.

"I wish I could put this headache potion in his tea but I can't."

Gentle hands rocked the unmoving sleeper. Expert hands unstoppered a potion.

"Wake up, now. You can sleep later but eat first."

A groggy head shook. Bleary eyes blinked. A grunt was the only response.

"I'm giving you the extra-strength potion but before that you really do have to have something in your belly."

With herculean effort, the man sat up. His long legs dangled at the end of the bed. Minerva unbuttoned a few buttons at his neck to make him more comfortable.

"Here's your tea and a scone. Just eat half if you can."

The tea was drank in a daze. The scone swallowed in the fewest bites. The potion came next.

"Very good. I'll wake you up in time for lunch."

The man slept the sleep of the innocent if not so virtuous.

"Too bad he can't even write a paper about this."

Poppy chuckled as they exited the bedroom.

"Can't he say that his partner was anonymous?"

Minerva transfigured her robe to a more somber and proper dark green preparing to return to her quarters.

"Hardly, Poppy. Using legilemency requires a willing second party and the name revealed for verification."

The two women left the sitting room and warded the room's entrance.

"He could call it 'The Application of Legilimency to Mimic the Sex Act Without Physical Contact' by the esteemable Severus Snape.'"

Cackles and giggles, most surprising in women of their age, floated down the hallway.


	14. Chapter 14

The Bride Cometh

Chapter 14

Few objects have ever been scrutinized by so many narrowed eyes and with such intensity as the school's deputy while settling to rights the headmaster's office just after breakfast.

"Here you are, Fawkes, a morning treat."

The phoenix gobbled the strip of bacon while leaning eagerly into the deputy's stroking fingers.

"I suppose it is you and I for the weekend then."

Fawkes chirped once and shook his head.

"I suppose you wanted to go with them to Salzburg."

Fawkes spread his wings seemingly restless.

"Oh, I'm sure you would have been made welcome in Ingrid's household. EVERYONE is made welcome in fact."

Several portraits exchanged questioning glances.

"Ah, Minerva, what do you mean?

Minerva did not respond nor made any sign that she had heard the question.

"Oh, Armando, cease your worrying, I doubt that Minerva would knowingly send Albus into harm's way. Ingrid is her cousin after all."

Minerva sat down in headmaster's chair. She swiveled turning her back on the portraits.

"I suppose so, Phineas. It is just that Albus is such a trusting man. I take it you have known Ingrid from childhood, Minerva?"

A slight murmur neither affirmative nor negative issued from the chair.

"Miss Bennett seems to meet all of Albus' requirements, doesn't she?"

A hand waved carelessly in the air in answer.

"That is fortunate. She was most solicitous of his needs. I am sure that she will see to all his comforts."

A slight ladylike snort issued from behind the chair.

"What was that, Minerva? These old ears are not what they once were."

Minerva stretched her arms high in the air. Her lips formed an impish smile.

#

With Ingrid's hand secure in the crook of his arm, Albus smiled genially as they made the rounds of the luncheon guests. He noted the numerous approving glances and comments he and Ingrid were receiving.

"Thank you for indulging my many relatives, Albus. They are so used to just popping in whenever. And mother goes all out on her table, doesn't she?"

Albus patted her arm.

"Soon, I promise, we will have time just to ourselves."

His smile shone like the sun.

"I shall be sure to reward your graciousness."

Albus leaned in for her quick kiss.

"Ah, darling, Ingrid, when I saw yours and Albus' picture in the paper I nearly fainted. I just had to come here today to see for myself."

Albus nodded towards Ingrid's elegantly fashionable Aunt Astrid.

"I never imagined that my beautiful niece would know such an exalted and wise person."

Ingrid's cousin Rodney slapped Albus gently on the back.

"Albus, you have truly found the jewel of the family. Wouldn't you agree, Aunt?"

Ingrid ducked her head modestly.

"Oh, yes, Rodney, my sweet boy, Ingrid's generosity is quite singular."

Albus snaked a hand around Ingrid's waist and grinned as Ingrid's cousin Fortis, a reporter for Paris Wizard Match, took a group picture.

"This should just make the latest edition of the magazine, cousin Ingrid. How about another?"

Rodney applied his stock in trade to artistically arrange Ingrid's flowing blond locks to even more stunning effect. They all leaned in for Fortis' second shot.

"A very handsome group. I'm sure even the Daily Prophet would be interested in this. Would you mind, headmaster, if I sold a piece with this picture to them?"

Ingrid laid her head on Albus' shoulder and sighed contentedly. Albus cheerfully agreed.

"How did you two meet? Ingrid doesn't move in your circles and vice versa."

Rodney and Astrid looked on with intense interest.

"Actually, Fortis, it's all due to Minerva."

Albus' eyes twinkled and he smiled widely.

"Minerva?"

Albus frowned seeing the puzzled looks all around.

"Minerva McGonagall, Aunt Astrid, you remember her, surely. The Scottish branch of the family you know."

Aunt Astrid closed her eyes in memory. Albus' right arm slid off Ingrid's slim waist.

"Let me see. She's the bookish tomboy forever tramping about outdoors, yes?"

Albus' eyes crinkled as an image of a coltish young Minerva climbing trees came to mind.

"That is Minerva. She's a teacher at Albus' school."

"Is she now. Miranda rarely comes to family gatherings. It's hard to remember."

Albus' eyes narrowed toward Astrid. Rodney gasped and very dramatically rubbed his temples as if soothing old past pains.

"My blessed stars! She's that … that bridesmaid who hexed me at cousin Tirla's wedding for styling her hair properly. I wanted the bridesmaids to have the same style. She had such lustrous soft hair, too."

Albus breathed deeply as his mind filled with the memory of a scantily clad woman with raven locks falling down to her shapely and probably firm derriere.

"Hair or no, Rodney, it hardly matters. That side of the family is so plain. Their tartans are their sole fashion statement."

Albus' annoyance intensified and the pleasant image dissolved. Ingrid's soft almost musical laugh reached his ears.

" I doubt that there is much call for fashion at a school. The McGonagalls put more stock on duty and honor as we all know."

Subconsciously his shoulders set themselves back as if preparing for battle.

"Well, Miranda doesn't hold a candle to our Ingrid. I tell you, Albus, I know no one else who is more gracious and pleasing. Ingrid is simply wonderful."

Albus took a step away from Ingrid and took a deep, cleansing breath.

"As Ingrid said, Minerva is a teacher at Hogwarts. Every one of Minerva's students is a credit to her dedication and skill. I doubt that any other teacher anywhere is remembered with as much fondness and admiration as Minerva undoubtedly is. Ingrid, you saw how well regarded Minerva is, didn't you?"

Astrid seemed taken aback by this unexpected and extremely staunch defense. Ingrid said nothing. Rodney gaped.

"If it were not for Minerva's help, I would not have had the time to spend with you. Wouldn't you say?"

Ingrid took Albus' hand into hers.

"If you will excuse as, Aunt Astrid, Rodney, I feel a need for some refreshment."

Albus allowed himself to be pulled away but his general annoyance was clearly evident on his face and form.

#

Mid-afternoon at Hogwarts saw the return of the Headmaster. Minerva looked up from her spot on the floor surrounded by piles of parchment. She had discovered that Albus' file system was once again in disarray.

"Albus! I thought you would be gone all the weekend."

Albus took off his cloak and promptly dropped it on one of the chairs.

"Aunt Astrid says hello."

Minerva rolled her eyes.

"That old useless busybody. You met her?"

Albus nodded then extended a hand to help pull Minerva up to her feet.

"You're wonderful, Minerva, just the way you are."

Minerva looked puzzled.

"I just wanted to say that."

Minerva placed a hand on Albus' forehead.

"You don't seem to have a temperature."

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"I have realized, Minerva, that outward physical courage is overrated. I much appreciate moral courage."

Albus summoned a house elf.

"Shall we have tea, Minerva? I find I have a touch of indigestion that only a few scones will cure."


End file.
